


Brilliant in Green

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-War, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-17
Updated: 2010-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Harry looks brilliant wrapped in green; and that’s only the beginning.





	Brilliant in Green

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for Daily Deviant, March 2010.

For a Gryffindor, Harry looked quite fetching in green.

Neville watched while green vines curled around Harry’s body, wrapping around his arms and legs, twining around his abdomen. One thick vine pressed against his throat, whilst a smaller tendril wound around his erect cock. The vines were fleshy yet firm, allowing movement and comfort yet preventing escape.

Reaching out, Neville removed Harry’s glasses, setting them down a safe distance away on a nearby potting table. Harry blinked myopically, licking his lips nervously, his breathing shallow.

“All right, Harry?” Neville asked, lifting a hand to his chest, fingers spread, feeling the heartbeat thundering beneath the skin. “We’ll stop if you decide this isn’t what you want.”

“I’m fine.” Harry tested the vines constraining him, but they held as Neville knew they would. “It just feels...odd, I guess. Different from cuffs.”

“Too liberating? I can make them tighten further.”

Harry shook his head, nostrils flaring. “It’s good, Neville. Really.”

“Glad to hear it.” Neville closed the distance separating them, hand still pressed over Harry’s heart, and kissed him hard, pleased when Harry’s lips parted immediately beneath his, allowing him to take possession of his mouth. Neville savoured the kiss for several long moments, tongues tangling and moving much like the vines tangled around Harry’s body. Neville’s hands roved over Harry’s wiry body and narrow chest, fingers pinching and pulling at Harry’s nipples, catching the breathy moans Harry made in his mouth and swallowing them. They were both breathing hard when Neville ended the kiss, Harry’s nipples still squeezed tight between his fingers. Harry’s eyes fluttered closed, breathing in short pants, whimpering his loss when Neville released him.

That release was short-lived. Neville retrieved his favourite set of clamps, which resembled the curving spikes from his shadowthorn bush. The tips weren’t nearly as sharp, of course, but he knew from personal experience that they would compress Harry’s nipples tightly without slipping or breaking the skin, while providing maximum sensation.

Harry whimpered again as the first clamp bit into the sensitive flesh, mouth dropping into an O of mingled pain and pleasure, his back arching when Neville added the second. The vines binding him shifted and moved with Harry as he writhed, until the pain dulled to a constant throbbing ache and he stood still once more, green eyes brilliant, glittering with arousal. His cock remained hard, the vine wrapped around it squeezing his length gently, its movements sinuous and constant.

Leaning in close, Neville stuck out his tongue, brushing its wetness across one tortured nub until Harry cried out before doing the same with the other. Harry trembled under the onslaught, helpless beneath the wicked swipes while Neville continued licking at his nipples, concentrating on the compressed tips.

“Fuck, ahhh, _fuck_...Neville...” Harry babbled. “God...nggghhh... _fuck_...”

“That’s next,” Neville murmured, lips brushing over Harry’s heaving chest, now lightly sheened with sweat, tasting the salt there. “Do you still want it? What we talked about?”

“Fuck, yes!” Harry’s reply was immediate and adamant, and Neville grinned.

“What’s the saying, Harry? Ask and ye shall receive?”

“Please, oh please, I want it, I do, I want it all, do it Neville...” Harry pleaded, and Neville thrilled at the broken words. Voldemort himself had never been able to make Harry beg so prettily. Perhaps if he had known then what Neville knew now about the Boy Who Lived, the outcome of the war might have been very, very different. Neville smiled again as he moved to stand behind Harry, one hand stroking gently over the taut, rounded curves of Harry’s arse, feeling him lean back into the soft caress. It was just as well Voldemort hadn’t found out. Otherwise, Neville would never have been given these opportunities to indulge in Harry’s darker fantasies...or his own.

Neville held out his hand, rewarded by the quick response from yet another vine, slithering across his palm. He closed his fingers around it, feeling it pulsate beneath his grip. The tendril was the perfect size, firm yet yielding slightly when Neville gave it a light squeeze. The tip of the vine tapered to a blunt end, several inches separating the tip from the first sprouting leaf. The vine was the ideal living dildo, Neville thought happily, remembering the many months it took to create his hybrid.

Reaching for the pot of aloe-based gel he preferred as lube, Neville scooped some from the container, rubbing it over his fingers until they were wet and slick. Parting Harry’s cheeks, Neville circled his tightly puckered hole with the tip of his forefinger, waiting until it loosened beneath the gentle touch before sliding it inside Harry. Crooking his finger, he found Harry’s prostate right away and massaged it firmly, listening to the small sounds and gasps of pleasure spilling past Harry’s lips, and added a second finger. Neville thrust the digits in and out, stretching Harry well and proper before adding a third finger, and then a fourth. Harry let out a choked cry, unused to being spread so painfully wide. Neville smoothed his free hand over Harry’s flank, soothing him while he continued stretching. Harry stilled, legs trembling, breathing through the discomfort. Neville hated hurting Harry unnecessarily, but this had to be done if Harry’s latest fantasy was to succeed.

Once Harry was as well-prepared as Neville could make him, he scooped more gel from the pot, using it to slick the end of the vine, smoothing it over the soft green surface until it felt like warm, wet velvet beneath his fingertips. Resting his hand against Harry’s arse, Neville guided the vine’s end to Harry’s slickened hole and pressed it into him. Harry gasped at the undoubtedly alien sensation as the plant breached him, worming its way more deeply inside on its own. Neville gave the vine a tap of his wand, and it began thrusting into Harry, fucking him slowly, while the tendril curled around Harry’s cock simultaneously began stroking him faster, undulating along his length, the tip probing delicately at the clear drops of moisture leaking from his slit.

Standing back, Neville took a moment to enjoy watching Harry within the grip of his vines, mewling and gasping and pushing back against the thick tendril pounding into his arse. His nipples were a deepening red within the vise of the clamps, his chest gleaming with sweat. The vine around his cock squeezed and stroked in a regular, pulsating rhythm, methodically coaxing Harry ever closer to orgasm. He looked beautiful, absolutely beautiful, and the sight left Neville hard and aching and fully intent upon taking further part in Harry’s debauchery.

Tapping the vine fucking Harry once more with his wand, Neville paused it on an inward thrust. Setting down the wand, he coated his fingers with more slick gel, pressing one inside Harry, alongside the vine. Pulling his finger back out, he added more lube and slid it back inside, adding a second digit. Harry whined.

“Too much?” Neville paused, his fingers still deep within Harry.

“Burns...” Harry gasped, his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t...stop...don’t want...you to...stop...”

Neville nodded, brushing his lips across Harry’s nape, using the feathery light kisses to distract him somewhat while he inserted a third finger and began thrusting slowly, occasionally pressing against the vine sharing space with his fingers, which in turn pressed against Harry’s prostate. A shiver ran through Harry.

“Hold still,” Neville ordered, pulling his fingers free, replacing it with the head of his cock and pushing inexorably inside. The vine slid along his length, firm and velvety and warm from the heat of Harry’s body, until he was fully sheathed. Reaching for his wand again, he gave the vine another tap, and together he and the vine began thrusting into Harry, the movements shallow, closer to a gentle rocking than thrusting.

Reaching around Harry’s hip, Neville checked the tendril wrapped around Harry’s cock, pleased to find it still wanking him, its movements now firm and fast. He circled his fingers around the rim, pausing to pull occasionally at the foreskin, knowing how much Harry liked it. Harry keened, lost and mindless against the pleasure-pain as Neville and the vine pounded his arse with increasingly rapid thrusts, going off-tempo so that Neville hit his prostate, then the vine, then Neville, over and over.

Releasing his cock, leaving it to the tendril’s care, Neville reached up and removed the clamps from Harry’s nipples. Harry screamed as the blood flowed back into the sensitive flesh and came, body spasming, his tight heat clenching and contracting against Neville’s cock buried inside him. Neville came hard less than a minute later, biting into Harry’s shoulder to muffle his groan of pleasure.

Breathing hard, he leaned against Harry’s back, regaining his equilibrium. It was hard to do, with the vine still thrusting into Harry and sliding along Neville’s spent cock, making it twitch, already attempting to reawaken.

Reluctantly, Neville pulled out and tapped the still-thrusting vine with his wand, making it stop so he could guide it free from Harry’s body. Harry slumped back against him, the vines wrapped around his limbs cradling him now, no longer restraining. Neville ran his hands along Harry’s sides, kissing his neck and jaw.

“That was brilliant,” Neville murmured. “ _You_ were brilliant, Harry.”

“Thanks. It _was_ brilliant,” Harry agreed, sounding tired. Neville couldn’t blame him. “We’ll have to do it again soon.”

“Soon,” Neville promised, whispering the spell to make the vines release Harry, catching him in his arms. “Next time, though, I want to see you bent over that potting table, with the vines lashed about your wrists and ankles while another one stripes your arse until it’s bright red and you’re begging me to make it stop so I can fuck you.”

Harry’s breath caught at the mental image, a shudder running through his body, a blush staining his cheeks. “I’d like that.”

Neville was already looking forward to it. While Harry looked quite fetching wrapped in green, there was no denying he looked equally good striped in Gryffindor red.


End file.
